CHAPTER XXXISTORMY WEATHER
It was Ned's intention, when he crawled out of the tent, to dodge behind the nearest tree, where he could see without being seen. But as he rose to his feet a dark figure suddenly obscured the faint embers of the fire, and a second later came the fall and the report which struck such a terror to Randy's heart as he waited in the darkness of the tent.
Ned understood the situation instantly. The unknown prowler had stumbled over the fireplace in his retreat, and the stolen gun had been exploded by striking the stones.
For two or three seconds there was nothing to indicate that the thief had been hit by the charge. Then a shrill yell rang through the woods and another and another in rapid succession.
"Randy! Randy! Come out here!" shouted Ned in a terrified voice. "Light the lantern and waken the boys."
The next instant Randy burst through the flaps.
"Here is the lantern," he gasped. "I have no matches. Good gracious! but you scared me. I thought you were shot."
"I'mnot, but I fear some one else is," replied Ned as he hastily struck a match and applied it to the wick of the lantern.
That instant Clay hurried out of the tent, and the three boys advanced timidly to the fireplace. The supposed robber had ceased his outcry, and was propped in an upright position against a heap of stones. Ned turned the lantern on his face and staggered back with a cry of amazement.
"Why, it's Nugget!" he exclaimed. "What under the sun does this mean?"
It was indeed Nugget, and he looked the very picture of fright as he rolled his eyes wildly from one to the other of his friends. It was several seconds before he could speak.
"Where am I?" he gasped. "Who put me out here in the rain? I thought I heard a gun go off."
He was evidently not injured—the position of the gun proved that—and the boys began to appreciate the ludicrous side of the situation.
"You've been walking in your sleep," exclaimed Ned, as a sudden light broke on his mind. "I'll bet a dollar that's just it. Did you ever do such a thing before, Nugget?"
Nugget hesitated and passed his hand over his forehead.
"Yes," he said reflectively; "I used to walk in my sleep sometimes, but that was long ago. I thought the habit was broken."
"Don't you remember anything about this affair?"resumed Ned. "You must have taken Randy's gun and left the tent without waking us."
"Yes; I have a sort of recollection of it," answered Nugget sheepishly. "I guess I must have been dreaming. I thought I was in Central Park at home, and the animals broke out of the menagerie. I had a gun in my hand, and when a big lion ran after me I ran away. Then I fell over a bench and the gun went off—and—and I don't think I remember any more. It was an awful dream. I thought the lion would eat me up."
This story was more than the boys could stand. They laughed so long and heartily that Nugget recovered from his scare and got angry instead.
"You fellows would laugh the other way if that gun had been pointed toward the tent when it went off," he said sullenly; "and besides there is no fun in having such a dream."
"Nugget is right," exclaimed Ned. "The affair is too serious for ridicule. It's almost a miracle he was not shot. And by the way, Randy, I've told you often not to keep that gun loaded. Think what might have happened to-night in consequence of your folly."
Randy looked penitent, and for a wonder accepted the rebuke quietly.
"I forgot, Ned, indeed I did," he said earnestly. "I put a shell in for snipe this afternoon, and never thought about it again. After this I'll examine the gun every night."
"If it was accidental that alters the case," replied Ned. "And now suppose we turn in. There is no use in standing here in the rain any longer."
The boys went back to the tent, and to prevent a second attempt at sleep-walking they made Nugget take the middle place. Five minutes later all were sleeping as soundly as before the alarm.
The next morning it was raining hard, and in fact it continued to rain at intervals all of that day and the next. The boys found the time hang a little heavy, although they sallied out in rubber coats, and had some excellent sport fishing for catfish.
Cooking was not interfered with, since the fireplace was in a sheltered position, and the tent was at all times snug and waterproof, in spite of some of the heaviest showers that the boys had ever known.
Rain was still falling at daybreak on Saturday, but about ten o'clock the sky cleared, and the sun came out—greatly to the delight of the Jolly Rovers.
As the next day was Sunday, and the camp was in such a good location, they decided to remain until Monday morning. This turned out to be a wise decision, for shortly after dinner a thunder storm swept down the valley, and for several hours the rain fell in torrents. By evening not a cloud was in sight, and indications pointed to a spell of clear weather.
Of course the creek was by this time very high and muddy, and was still on the rise. The water had crept three feet up the slope on top of which thetent was pitched, but as three feet more remained to be covered the boys felt no uneasiness.
There was still higher ground behind them on which they could take refuge if the necessity came.
After supper Ned got out his map, and began to study it with great care.
"Has it occurred to any of you fellows that we are drawing near home?" he asked finally. "We passed Honck's dam on Wednesday afternoon, and our present camp is very near Sporting Green. There are only four more dams between us and the Susquehanna, and the distance can't be much over thirty miles."
The others were rather surprised to hear this, and could not make up their minds at first whether to be glad or sorry.
"I can hardly realize it," said Randy. "The time has certainly slipped by very quickly, and yet it was three weeks yesterday since we started."
"I hate to think that the cruise is nearly over," remarked Clay, "but all the same it will be nice to get home again."
Ned laughed as he folded up the map and put it in his pocket.
"I know just how you feel," he sad. "It will be very nice to sleep in a soft bed, and eat off a table again, and sit out on the boathouse porch in the evenings; but about a week after you get home you'll wish with all your heart you were back on the creek with the grass for a bed and a rock for a table.Canoeing is like ice cream—when you once taste it you are always wanting more. It reminds me of what I read about a famous African explorer. He was always glad to get back to civilization for a little while, and then he was more anxious than ever to return to his wild life. It seemed as though he couldn't breathe right anywhere but in Africa."
"I hope canoeingislike that," said Randy. "Then we will make lots more trips together. I feel just as you do about it, Ned. I don't like to see the cruise end, but it will be very nice in some ways to get home. Won't the other boys be envious when they see how sunburnt we are, and hear all about the exciting adventures we have had?"
"When will we reach the end of the creek?" asked Nugget with a rapturous expression. "Monday?"
"Hardly," replied Ned. "It will take longer than that. But why are you so anxious to get home, Nugget?"
"He wants to put on a suit of cream colored clothes," exclaimed Clay with mock gravity, "and a boiled shirt and high collar. He is longing to encase his lily white hands in kid gloves, and his dainty feet in patent leathers."
As Nugget blushed an angry red, and made no reply, it is to be presumed that Clay's remark contained more truth than fiction.
"You fellows are all counting your chickens too soon," said Ned. "A good many miles separate usfrom home, and as likely as not there are more rough times in store for us."
Lightly spoken and lightly meant were these words, but Ned recalled them under thrilling circumstances a day or two later.
All day Sunday the creek continued to rise slowly until it was just a foot from the top of the bank. It was stationary at nine o'clock in the evening, and when it began to fall two hours later the boys turned in, satisfied that the danger was over.
The water receded a foot and a half during the night, but when Monday morning dawned with a clear sky the flood was still a sight to behold as it rolled swiftly by the camp, its smooth yellow surface dotted with tangled grasses and driftwood.
As far as the boys could see was high and hilly land, but there was no doubt that the lowlands were inundated far on each side of the creek. The rains had been unusually heavy.
CHAPTER XXXIITHE BROKEN DAM
By nine o'clock the Jolly Rovers were afloat—adrift would be a better word, since the swift current made the paddles unnecessary, except for a guiding touch now and then. It did not occur to the boys to delay their departure on account of the flood. They were tired of the camping place, and moreover the high water would likely be a help rather than a hindrance.
They found it keenly exhilarating to lean lazily back in their canoes and be carried at a whirling pace around bend after bend. There was just enough danger from submerged islands and reefs, and floatingdébris, to add spice to the enjoyment.
Here and there, where the creek passed through low country, the fields were inundated, and only the tops of the fences could be seen above the water.
A mile or two below camp a sudden sweep of the channel brought into view a red wooden bridge. The creek, being wide at this point, the bridge was supported in the center by a narrow, squarely built pier.
As the boys came closer they saw that the pier hadbeen shattered by some terrific power. The whole face of it was torn away, and the frail portion that remained seemed in danger of being carried off by the yellow flood that was surging against it. Two men had climbed down from an opening in the bridge, and were busy among the loose stones, evidently trying to fit them into place again. From the left shore a little knot of people was watching the operation.
Naturally the boys were curious to know what it meant, and when they drew near they slackened the speed of the canoes by backing water vigorously with their paddles.
"Did the flood do all that damage?" asked Ned.
"No," answered one of the men, stopping work to look up, "the ice did it last winter, and the commissioners neglected to have it repaired. A pretty bill they're likely to have to pay for their carelessness. It's too late to do anything now."
"That's so," assented the other man; "we may as well stop work and get out of this."
"But what danger are you afraid of now?" resumed Ned. "The pier has stood the worst of the flood and the water is going down."
The first speaker jerked his finger up the creek. "They say that Honck's dam is liable to break at any minute," he answered slowly. "It's a mighty old dam, and has been threatenin' to give 'way fur the last ten years. It's a big high one, too, and has a heap of timber in it. Just as surely as that mass of stuffcomes down the creek with a volume of water behind it, this pier will go to pieces and down will come the bridge."
"Do you really think the dam will break?" asked Ned.
"It's ten to one," was the reply. "They say the edges are giving way now. You fellows had better get off the creek afore it's too late. Them cockleshell boats won't stand much."
With this warning the speaker climbed up the pier, followed by his companion, and both disappeared in the bridge. The boys lifted their paddles from the water and went swiftly on with the current for the time being.
"These rustics have exaggerated the danger, I'll bet anything," said Randy. "If Honck's dam was going to break it would not have waited until the flood was half way down."
"I don't know about that," replied Ned. "The danger may be very real."
He had given the dam some attention while the canoes were being carried around it on the previous Wednesday, and he now remembered with secret uneasiness that it was very high and rotten, and held in check a vast volume of water. Terrible would be the consequences if this were suddenly to be freed.
"What are we going to do?" asked Nugget uneasily.
"That man warned us to leave the creek, and he knew what he was talking about."
"We can't very well take his advice now," replied Ned, "for there is no landing place in sight."
"There is no use in stopping at all," exclaimed Randy, "if the object is to wait for the dam to break. We might be detained for a week, and then find that the dam was as strong as ever. And besides we could hear the noise in time to get out of the way. All we need to do is keep our ears open and look behind from time to time."
"Even if the dam should break the chances are that with such a current as this we could keep ahead of the flood," suggested Clay. "Don't you think so, Ned?"
"I'm afraid that's doubtful," replied. Ned. "At all events I don't think I should care to run a race with the flood even on a start of half a dozen miles. For the present we had better follow Randy's advice and keep our eyes and ears open. If we find a suitable place I am in favor of stopping for an hour or two. We are too near home to risk disaster."
This arrangement was satisfactory to all except Nugget, and he made no outward remonstrance.
For the next two hours all went well, and mile after mile was swiftly traversed. The boys kept in mid-channel so as to reap the fullest advantage from the current.
They looked back from time to time, but neither saw nor heard anything alarming. The smooth yellow flood glided between the wooded banks with scarcely a murmur.
About midday the creek turned a sharp angle, and headed due north in a straight course of fully half a mile. Beyond the steep hills that terminated this stretch the boys could see the distant blue line of the mountains.
The fears of the morning had vanished, and all were in buoyant spirits. The home-coming loomed brightly before them now, for with such a current the Susquehanna would soon be reached.
On the left hand side of the creek stretched a sloping hill, wooded for a distance of two or three hundred yards as it receded from the water, and then merging into open fields. On the right was a rugged cliff full of limestone rocks and scrawly pine trees.
The boys did not pay much attention to their surroundings, but when they were nearly half way to the bend, Randy happened to glance toward the left, and on the very crest of the hill, a good quarter of a mile from the water, he saw a little white farmhouse.
There was nothing in this to attract his attention, but as his gaze lingered he saw a man come out on the porch and glance up the creek, shading his eyes with his hand. Then he turned toward the house, and an instant later two women and another man appeared and looked in the same direction.
This was growing interesting, and Randy called the attention of his companions to the farmhouse. What happened next was stranger still. The little group on the porch suddenly caught sight of the canoes far below them, and one of the men darted quickly into thehouse. He reappeared a second or two later with a shiny object in his hand, and placing it to his mouth he blew a shrill discordant blast that echoed far over the hills.
He repeated this twice, and then all of the group began to shout and wave their hands.
The boys glanced at one another in amazement. What was the meaning of such an idiotic performance?
Suddenly Ned turned pale.
"Great Scott!" he exclaimed. "The dam must have broken, and those people can see the flood somewhere up the creek. They are warning us to get out of the way."
The boys instinctively turned to look behind, but the first glance revealed no cause for alarm.
"All right so far," cried Randy. "The current seems to be getting swifter though, and I actually believe the water is rising."
He had hardly spoken when Ned uttered a startled cry. "Look! look! there it comes!"
Around the sharp curve above swept a sloping volume of water, yellow with mud and foam, black with timber and uprooted trees. It came on with a rush and a swelling roar, and as the frightened boys watched it with terrible fascination, a section of a wooden bridge painted red hove in sight.
The imminence of the danger drove the Jolly Rovers into a helpless panic. Even Ned was frightened out of his self possession.
The right shore was the nearest, and the boys paddledfor it with furious strokes, not remembering for an instant that it offered the least chance of safety. The swift current whirled the canoes down stream for nearly a hundred yards before it would suffer them to glide into the calmer waters along the bank.
Randy and Clay, being on the outer side, had more to overcome, and were swept beyond their companions. Ned and Nugget drifted against a precipitous wall of rock that rose twenty feet before its surface was broken by the tree or brush.
They looked hopelessly around them, vainly seeking a chance of escape, while louder and louder in their ears sounded the hissing roar of the oncoming flood. At the base of the cliff the water was already boiling and tossing.
CHAPTER XXXIIIUNDERGROUND CRUISE
"Paddle on, quick!" cried Ned in an agony of fear. "We may reach a break in the cliff."
Nugget, who was half a canoe's length in advance had sufficiently presence of mind to obey. He paddled off with desperate strokes, and Ned crowded him closely.
A few yards down stream the wall of rock jutted out slightly and then receded. As the canoes rounded this a great heaving wave—the vanguard of the flood—tossed them high on its crest and cast them, like a stone from a catapult, straight toward a black, semi-circular hole in the base of the cliff. A furious current swept in the same direction, and even had the boys realized the nature of this new peril they could have done nothing to help themselves.
Nugget dropped his paddle with a cry of terror and clutched the combing. The next instant he shot into the gaping hole, scraping his cap from his head by contact with the top, and disappeared from view.
Ned was dazed by what he had just witnessed, and his turn came before he realized it. He had hardly time to twist his paddle around longwise and duck hishead when the current sucked him under the cliff. He heard a quick, grating noise, and then the dim gleam of light faded, leaving him in utter darkness.
The canoe pitched and tossed dizzily, and by the cold air that surged on his face, and the spray that spattered him, Ned knew that he was moving at rapid speed. Suddenly a cry rang in his ears with the sharpness of a pistol shot and reverberated through the cavern. An instant later he felt a violent concussion on the right, and reaching out his hand he touched the combing of Nugget's canoe.
He clung to it with all his might and managed to keep the two canoes side by side as the current whirled them on through the darkness.
Nugget was not aware of this at first, for he uttered another piercing cry for help. It was impossible to carry on any conversation owing to the confused booming noise made by the water, but Ned leaned to one side and shouted at the top of his voice: "Cheer up, Nugget. I'm here beside you. We'll find a way out of this."
Nugget must have heard and understood, for he was silent after that.
It was characteristic of Ned to cheer his companion. He was thoroughly unselfish, and was always more concerned about others than himself. In this case his consoling words meant nothing. He was still dazed by the overwhelming calamity that had befallen him, and had not begun to realize its extent.
He remembered the lantern that was in the forwardhatch and the match safe in his pocket, but the former was out of reach and the latter was on his right side. He could not get it with his left hand, and he was afraid to trust the holding of the canoes to Nugget. So a light was out of the question at the present time.
The painful suspense of the next few minutes made them seem like hours. The canoes whirled on and on with a dizzy swaying motion, but not the faintest ray of light broke the intensity of the darkness.
Ned cautiously thrust his paddle out to the left, and it struck something hard with a ringing noise. He did not repeat the experiment for fear of upsetting.
All at once the roar of the water seemed to deepen, and the canoes settled into a swift, steady rush that made the air fairly sing about Ned's ears. What followed was never very clear to him afterward. He remembered a dash of icy spray in his face, and then a terrible collision that landed him somewhere on his hands and knees.
He was stunned and dizzy for a little while, and when finally he staggered to his feet his first thought was of Nugget. He called him by name, and a hollow groan was the only reply. Even that was better than silence, and with a trembling hand Ned drew out his match box and struck a light.
Both canoes lay upset at his feet, and between them was Nugget leaning on his elbows with a very dazed expression on his face.
Three more matches enabled Ned to right the Pioneer, procure his lantern, and light it. Then, seeingthat Nugget was uninjured, he scrutinized his surroundings more closely.
He understood at once what had happened. The underground stream made a sharp curve at this point, and the force of the current had thrown the canoes far out on a sandy beach. From above, the yellow flood came roaring and tossing through a passage some twenty feet wide, and nearly the same in height. Below the angle it plunged on under the same conditions.
The beach was about ten yards long, and sloped back half that distance to a slimy wall of rock. On the opposite side of the stream the wall fell sheer into the water, and overhead was a jagged roof that glittered and sparkled in the rays of the lantern.
Ned formed his own conclusions as to the nature of the place, and they were not entirely unfavorable, for the speed and impetuosity of the muddy stream had given him a good deal to think about. He dismissed his reflections until a more favorable time, and placing the lantern on the sand turned to Nugget, who was in a pitiable state of fright.
"Are you hurt any, old fellow?" asked Ned, "or only a little stunned?"
"Oh, I don't know, I don't know," moaned Nugget. "What awful place are we in, Ned? It seems like a dream. I hardly remember what happened. And where are Clay and Randy?"
"I hope they are safe," replied Ned evasively. "In fact, I really think they are, Nugget. They landed some distance below us, and no doubt found aplace to climb out before the flood caught them."
"And what happened to us, Ned? Didn't the current drag us into a hole in the cliff?"
"Yes," said Ned, "that's it exactly, and we are now in an underground cavern. Don't be alarmed," he added quickly, noting the sudden pallor on his companion's face, "our situation is not so terrible after all. Caverns of this sort are always found among limestone hills, and they usually have two outlets. This one is no exception to the rule, and I'll tell you why I think so. In the first place you must remember that the creek was nearly four feet high before that dam broke. The extra volume of water is what makes this terrific current through the cavern and the very fact that the water goes on through without damming up proves to me that it has an outlet.
"When the creek is at its normal level I don't believe any water flows into the cavern at all, and even with a four foot raise I don't think much goes through. It was the first rush of the flood that carried us into the hole. And now do you see what I am driving at? As soon as the back water from Honck's dam has spent itself—and it can't take very long—the stream in front of us will become shallow, and then all we need to do is to follow it down to the outlet. It probably cuts across some bend and re-enters the creek. And we have penetrated such a distance from the mouth that the outlet can't be far away. I can't swear to all this, Nugget, but I am pretty well convincedthat I am right. A very short time will settle the question one way or another."
"I hope what you say will come true," replied Nugget dolefully. "This is a horrible place to be in. It gives me the shivers to think of it. But if all the water runs out, won't we have to leave our canoes behind?" he added quickly.
"We won't wait that long," said Ned. "Don't be downhearted. There is surely a way out of this cavern, and we'll find it. Our situation might be far worse than it is. We have matches and a lantern, and there are crackers in my canoe."
"Are there?" exclaimed Nugget eagerly. "I think I'll eat a few. You're an awfully good fellow, Ned. I don't feel half as bad now."
"It's a good sign to be hungry," replied Ned laughingly. He brought some of the crackers, and both ate them as they sat side by side on the sand.
CHAPTER XXXIVDESPAIR
In the course of an hour Ned's prediction began to be verified. The roar of the flood ceased entirely, and the water receded from the beach until the stream looked as shallow and quiet as a meadow brook. Ned waded clear across to the opposite wall without going over his knees.
"The flood from the dam has spent itself. I'm afraid we'll have to wade through and pull the canoes after us. I can see shoals and ledges not far below. I'll lead the way with the lantern."
This proposition was far from pleasing to Nugget, but he uttered no remonstrance. He had implicit faith in Ned by this time.
The canoes were pulled into the water, and without delay the boys started down the gloomy channel. They pushed the canoes ahead of them, and in this way supported themselves and lessened the danger of slipping.
For a while they made fair progress and encountered but few shoals. The stream was nowhere more than knee deep.
Under these favorable circumstances Ned relaxedhis caution, and the consequence was that his feet slipped on the smooth stone, and down he went into a pretty deep hole. The lantern fell from his hand was extinguished, and the canoe shot ahead of him.
Nugget's cry of alarm was the first thing that Ned heard when he recovered his footing, and he found himself almost breast deep in water. He was shivering with cold—and with something else as well, for he realized the full meaning of the disaster, and for a moment he was sick and faint.
"I'm all right, Nugget," he shouted. "Stay where you are. Don't move a foot."
Then he waded cautiously forward until the channel was knee deep again, and shaking the water from his hands as well as he could, he drew out the precious match and struck a light.
His canoe had lodged on a reef a few feet down stream, but the lantern was gone beyond recovery. The situation was serious. Nugget's lantern was in Randy's canoe, and worse than all, only four matches remained in the box.
"It's a bad fix," thought Ned; "but we must make the best of it. Nugget," he added aloud, "push your canoe along the right side. I think the water is shallow there."
Nugget obeyed, and joined his companion without difficulty.
"Have you any matches?" asked Ned.
"Not a single one." Nugget went through his pockets to make sure, and turned a shade whiter whenhe saw Ned's scanty stock, two of which were already exhausted.
"This is terrible," he exclaimed huskily. "What can we do now?"
"Not very much," replied Ned. "Keep your spirits up, though; that's the important thing. Here, take these, and burn one at a time."
He handed the match box to Nugget, and quickly drew the canoes side by side. He took a stout fishing line from his pocket and tied them together at bow and stern.
Then he rummaged the hatches in a vain search for something that would burn. Even the paper that was around some of the bundles was damp from spray and leakage.
"Well, Nugget, we must make the best of it," he said. "All we can do is to push on in the dark. Is that the last match?"
"One left," answered Nugget dolefully, and heaved a long sigh.
"Don't use it, then. It may come in handy later on. The situation is not as bad as it looks. We can stick close together and push the canoes ahead of us. In that way we won't run any risk of striking the wall. Of course we can't move very rapidly, but our getting out of the cavern is only a question of time."
"I hope it won't take long," said Nugget. "A day or two of this would drive me mad."
Just then the match he was holding burnt to the end and fell in the water. He restored the box toNed, and taking hold of the canoes at the stern ends, they moved slowly through the darkness.
No words can adequately describe the suffering and thoughts of the two lads during the next hour. Nugget could not repress an occasional complaint, and even the stout hearted Ned felt at times as though he must cry out.
The fate of Clay and Randy weighed almost as heavily upon him as his own misfortunes. He knew their chance of escape had been very slight, and he feared they had not been able to take advantage of it. Little wonder then that he looked forward with almost equal dread and joy to reaching the end of the cavern.
That ordeal, however, promised to be long delayed. It was a painfully laborious task to accomplish even a snail-like progress through the dark passage.
What lay before them the boys could only imagine, and they constantly feared some calamity. It was impossible to keep the canoes straight. They veered to right and left, striking the rocky sides of the channel, which actually seemed to be growing narrower.
Every few moments they stuck fast on a shoal or submerged reef, and then Ned had to feel his way to the front with his paddle, and dislodge them by main force. The water was of variable depth, and half a dozen times the boys suddenly plunged breast deep into a hole, but fortunately did not let go of the canoes.
At the end of an hour the situation was unchanged. As yet not a ray of light was visible ahead. Nedcheered his companion with hopeful words, and both struggled on and on, straining their eyes through the gloom to catch the first glimpse of light.
They felt that their powers of endurance would soon be spent. They were intensely weary, and chilled to the bone by their dripping clothes. Contact with the rocks had bruised their hands and feet, and every step was a torture.
At last the canoes grounded on some yielding surface and refused to budge. Ned staggered forward and found their prows imbedded in what he judged to be a bar of sand and gravel stretching across the channel. He walked on a few steps to ascertain its width, and was amazed and frightened by coming in contact with a solid wall of rock.
"Come here, quick, Nugget!" he called hoarsely.
Nugget waded alongside the canoes, and was soon on the bar.
"What is it?" he cried. "Anything wrong?"
For answer Ned took the last match from the little metal box, and lighted it.
As the little blaze flared up the boys looked curiously about them. One brief glimpse revealed the awful truth. The sandy bar was in reality the end of the passage. Beyond it rose a smooth, slimy wall, and overhead was a low jagged roof dripping with moisture. The canoes lay in a quiet pool of water that was as dead and void of current as a mill pond.
CHAPTER XXXVNUGGET DISCOVERS A LIGHT
The half-burned match fell from Ned's trembling fingers, and went out on the sand. Then there was silence for nearly a minute—a terrible, oppressive silence.
It was broken by a sharp cry from Nugget that echoed far through the cavern. He seized Ned by one arm and clung to him, trembling from head to foot.
"Is there no hope?" he wailed pitifully. "Must we stay in this awful place until we die? I can't stand it, Ned, indeed I can't. Oh! do something quick, won't you?"
Ned was at a loss to reply. His own heart was full of misery and despair. What word of comfort could he give his companion? Would it be wise to give him any—to excite hopes that might never be realized?
He put his arm about Nugget, and this seemed to comfort the lad a little.
"We will surely find a way to escape, Ned?" he asked in a calmer tone. "Don't you think so?"
"It shan't be our fault if we don't," returned Ned. "You must be brave, Nugget—brave and patient.We are worn out and exhausted now, and must have rest before we can do anything more."
"I was awfully tired a minute ago," said Nugget, "but I feel now as though I could push on all day if I was sure of finding the way out of this cavern. Do you think we will have to go all the way back—to the place we entered by, I mean?"
"I hope that won't be necessary," replied Ned. "The simple truth is that we have blundered into a side passage, that has no outlet. It can't be very long since we got off the right track, for I remember the current against my legs. We will go back after a while and find the turning."
"In this pitch darkness?" exclaimed Nugget.
"We will feel our way along the wall," said Ned, "and if the canoes are in the road we'll abandon them. We won't start now though. Sit down and take a good rest. You will need it."
Nugget obediently climbed into his canoe, and Ned did the same. For a long while they sat thus, side by side, without speaking. Ned's courage was almost at the breaking point. In spite of his sanguine words he felt that the chance were terribly adverse. Without a ray of light to guide them it would be a difficult matter to find the main channel of the stream again, and follow it to the outlet which must certainly exist. There was danger of falling into deep holes, of striking sharp rocks, or blundering into other side passages with which the cavern was doubtless honeycombed.
Oppressed with such sad reflections Ned let thetime go by unheeded, and at length, through very fatigue, he fell into a kind of doze. How long he remained thus he did not know, but he was suddenly roused to consciousness by a shrill cry from Nugget:
"Look, Ned, a light! a light!"
Ned first believed that his companion was either dreaming or in delirium, but when he glanced along the passage he saw a yellow flickering glare, and outlined against it a tall black figure.
"It's a man with a torch," cried Ned hoarsely.
"And he's going away from us," exclaimed Nugget, "call him, quick!"
The boys made the cavern ring with loud shouts, and when a quick response came they were almost frantic with joy.
The torch was motionless for an instant. Then it came nearer and nearer, casting a ruddy light on the slimy walls of the passage, until the boys could see plainly the tall bearded man who carried it.
"Found at last!" exclaimed the stranger in a cheery voice as he waded out on the beach. "This will be good news for them other chaps."
"Are our friends safe?" cried Ned eagerly. "Did they escape the flood?"
"Yes," replied the man. "Didn't even get wet or lose their canoes. Come right along now, an' I'll take you to them. I wouldn't let them enter the cavern for fear of accidents. This ain't the time to explain things. All that will come later. My name is Jonas Packer, an' I'm the man what blowed that horn thismorning when I seen you chaps down on the creek."
In view of Mr. Packer's evident anxiety to get out of the cavern as soon as possible the boys repressed their desire to ask more questions. Pain and fatigue were forgotten as they entered the water and pushed the canoes back along the passage. While their guide preceded them, holding the blazing torch over his head.
Five minutes later they reached the main channel, and turning a sharp angle found themselves in swiftly running water once more.
"This is where you boys got astray, I reckon," said Mr. Packer. "It's good you sung out when you did, because I was going right on to the front end of the cavern. I didn't think about this side pocket at the time."
"Are we near the rear end?" inquired Ned.
"Purty close," was the reassuring reply. "You'll know when you come to it."
For half an hour longer the boys pushed on through the narrow winding passage, finding the stream as rugged and full of difficulties as it had been earlier in the day. With Mr. Packer's aid, however, they readily skirted the deep pools and pulled the canoes over the obstructing ledges and shallows.
Then, somewhat to their consternation, they saw a jagged wall of rock towering before them. This was undoubtedly the termination of the cavern, but where was the outlet?
"Hold this over your head and stay right here,"said Mr. Packer, handing Ned the torch. "I'll be with you in a minute."
He waded toward the wall, pulling the canoes after him, until the water was above his waist. Then, one at a time, he shot the canoes into a long, low crevice at the base of the cliff, and they vanished with a grating noise.
He waded back to the boys and led them to a narrow strip of sand on the right of the passage. Without a word he climbed nimbly up the rocks and entered a circular hole where the space was so contracted that Ned and Nugget had to bend almost double and hold their arms in front of them.
They made several sharp turns, slipped down a slide of moist, sticky clay—and emerged suddenly into the warm, sultry air of the outer world.
A glad cry fell from the boys' lips. A few yards distant lay the surface of the creek, and in the angle formed by the shore and a rocky hillside that fell sheer to the water, was a snowy tent, and a campfire behind it, and two slim figures standing in the flame light. The next instant the Jolly Rovers were united, and with joy too deep for words they clasped hands.
Mr. Packer slipped quietly away, and jumping into a boat paddled after the two canoes which had emerged from under the cliff a moment before, and were now sliding swiftly down stream.
CHAPTER XXXVIHOME AGAIN
It was some time before the boys could talk coherently. A dry change of clothes and the good supper their companions had prepared in readiness, made Ned and Nugget feel pretty much like themselves again, and sitting about the camp fire they told the thrilling story of their adventure.
Then Clay and Randy related their escape from the flood, telling how they had reached a break in the cliff—a steep, bushy slope—up which they dragged their canoes in time to avoid the sudden deluge.
The missing links were supplied by Jonas Packer.
"I seen you two fellows shoot into the cavern," he said, "and as soon as the flood went down a little, I took my boat and went across to the other chaps, who were pretty badly scared about that time. Knowin' all about the cavern, I relieved their minds a little and persuaded them to paddle around the bend with me to the place where the cavern came out. Then we all went inside and waited and waited for two or three hours, I reckon. You see I kinder expected you boys to come straight through without upsetting.
"I was afraid then to wade up the channel for fear of more high water. But when evening come, an' no signs of you yet, the thing began to look serious. So I told those lads to h'ist the tent an' get supper ready—more to cheer them than anything else—an' then I lit the pine torch I'd brought along, and struck into the cavern, bent on going clear through if I could, and the rest of my story you fellows know. It was a narrow escape, I tell you."
"It was the worst adventure I ever had," said Ned. "The time we were in there seemed like days instead of hours. Is the cavern very long?"
"Not more'n half a mile. It took you a good while to come through though. It was about eight o'clock in the evening when I found you. You see the cavern cuts straight under the hill, and enters the creek again below the bend. To go around by land it's a good mile and a half.
"In low water both ends of the cavern are high and dry, and you can go all the way through on foot. Indian Cave is what they call it because the Indians used to hide there more'n a hundred years ago."
Mr. Packer related several interesting reminiscences of the cavern, until he saw that the boys were getting sleepy. Then he left for home promising to rig up a paddle in place of the one Nugget had lost, and also to bring him an old hat.
A few moments later the Jolly Rovers were sleeping soundly in the tent, and the dying camp fire was gleaming on the muddy surface of the creek.Tuesday was a clear, sunny day, but the boys decided to defer their departure until the next morning. Ned and Nugget felt the need of a little rest.
After breakfast Jonas Packer returned, bringing quite a respectable paddle on which he had been working since daybreak, and a broad brimmed straw hat, which Nugget regarded as a very poor substitute for his trim yachting cap.
Harvest work required the good natured farmer's immediate return. The boys parted from him with genuine regret, and only with the greatest difficulty could they induce him to accept pay for the paddle—the very least of the services he had rendered them.
The greater part of the day was spent in furbishing up clothes and camp equipments and scrubbing the collected dirt and scum of three weeks from the decks and sides of the canoes. The boys realized that the cruise was about ended, and they hoped by the aid of the high water and an early start to reach home on the morrow.
There was no longer any temptation to linger by the way, since the lower reaches of the creek with which they had been familiar for some years past, were only a few miles distant. The chief charm of canoeing is to explore strange waters.
The Jolly Rovers were up bright and early on Wednesday morning, and in default of bread or crackers they made some cakes out of flour and water, and relished them, too. It was a strange coincidence that the provisions should have lasted just until thistime. With the exception of a little oatmeal the jars were quite empty.
About half past seven the Pioneer led the way down stream, proudly shaking the faded pennant to the breeze, and soon the mouth of Indian Cave was far behind. The creek was now barely a foot above its normal level, but this was quite sufficient to make a swift current, and the mile after mile, bend after bend fell behind the flashing paddles of the Jolly Rovers.
At ten o'clock they reached the first familiar landmark—Roop's Dam—and the home coming began to seem a reality indeed. The Susquehanna was six miles distant as the crow flies, but almost thrice six by the snaky curvatures of the channel down which they were making their way.
Midway on the breast of the dam was lodged a section of the red bridge, and it recalled vividly to the boys the circumstances under which they had last seen it.
They found an easy portage for the canoes, and were off again without delay. While the sunny afternoon slowly lengthened they paddled on through a now familiar country, passing Sporting Hill—a famous place for bass—about four o'clock, and reaching Oyster's Dam—endeared by many boyish memories—just an hour later.
Another portage, and then away at full speed between wooded banks and green islands, to the nail works dam, where the air rang to the clatter of bighammers and pitchy black smoke was vomited skyward from huge stacks.
A brief dash through foaming shallows and rapids, with the hamlet of Fairview on one side and the wooded bluffs of Bunker Hill on the other, a swift glide into the shadows of the old Red Bridge—and then the Jolly Rovers were on the broad bosom of the Susquehanna. They shouted and laughed and waved their caps in the air for very joy.
A mile across the tide were the upper suburbs of the city, and diagonally down stream, three miles away, was the great yellow dome of the capitol, and beyond it, faint in the golden haze of sunset, the piers and spans of five mighty bridges, capped by clustered spires and roofs.
Soon the Jolly Rovers rounded the upper point of Independence Island and paddled on by the city shores until the porch of Randy's boat house hove in view.
Ned was first to reach the float, and stepping out of his canoe he seized the pennant and waved it aloft. "The cruise of the Jolly Rovers is ended," he cried. "May we make another like it!"
"And never a shorter one!" added Randy. "It will be four weeks on Friday morning since we started."
They give three loud cheers together, and with eager hands carried the canoes into the boat house. Then they climbed to the top of the bank, and marched homeward through the city with the proud stepand mien of a conquering army. Far more to be prized than spoils of victory were their healthy, bronzed faces.
And so the wonderful cruise came to an end—in one way at least, though the memories of it will never be forgotten. Apart from its keen enjoyments, and thrilling adventures, and the freshened vigor of health that it imparted, the boys learned more than one lesson that will prove of service in after life. From that time Randy was less self willed, and better able to curb his temper, for his eyes had been opened to the serious consequences that may result from these faults.
Clay had learned to regard practical jokes and mocking words in a more serious light than they had ever appeared to him before, while Nugget was more self reliant and less timid after the rugged experiences he had passed through.
Even Ned—to whose constant cool headedness and knowledge of out door craft the success of the cruise was mainly due—had profited by lessons of patience and endurance. And he was happy—with that happiness which comes to one who has benefitted his fellow man—in the consciousness that he had helped Bug Batters to the commencement of a new and a better life.
The boys are yet far from the cares and responsibilities of manhood, and they will probably make more than one cruise in the happy summer vacations to come, but it is doubtful if brighter memories willever dim the cherished wealth of affection they feel for the faded pennant, the scarred and battered paddles, and the water soaked log book, which now hangs on the boathouse wall—mute mementoes of the time the Jolly Rovers paddled down the winding waters of the Conodoguinet.
THE END